


making memories and messes

by agentmmayy



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AoS Smut Week 2019, Baking, Baking fails, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 02:21:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20332456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agentmmayy/pseuds/agentmmayy
Summary: Melinda and Daisy try to make their favorite dessert no matter how messy it may be.





	making memories and messes

**Author's Note:**

> day 3 of smut week! this is for Tuesday: Location: The Playground (even tho it isn't smut lol) anyway I am in dire need of may&daisy and philindaisy fluff and have been craving both red bean sweets and almond cookies recently so this fic was born. am I eating almond cookies at 10:30pm? yes. do I care? no. hope you enjoy!

Melinda set her tablet down, exiting out of the training video she’d been going over. She could only tolerate watching her Strike team mess up so many times. At least recording the sessions was better than being stuck in the sweaty gym watching them. She could be in the gym today though since it was marginally less sweaty with the three day weekend and absence of nearly everyone on base. Phil had given everyone the weekend off and no sooner did he do that, the base emptied out.  ** **  
** **

It was both relaxing and eerie to walk the quiet halls of the normally busy Playground, but Melinda wasn’t complaining. That meant she could stretch out on the couch and pretend to work with no one interrupting her. She settled back against the soft cushions, eyes briefly closing but opened when footsteps suddenly neared the door. Melinda sat up.  ** **  
** **

Daisy bustled into the common room, carrying two enormous bags that each looked like they weighed a ton. She made a beeline for the kitchen and set the bags on the counter with a groan.  ** **  
** **

Melinda frowned. Daisy didn’t say she was going out earlier. She stood, following her into the kitchen. “Did you do the shopping for this week?” ** **  
** **

“What?” Daisy asked. “Oh, no. I’ve had this in my room for a while.” At Melinda’s disapproving look, she huffed. “It’s  _ sealed _ . Don’t worry.” ** **  
** **

Daisy had a habit of keeping snacks in her bunk then complaining when ants showed up. Melinda watched as more items joined the others on the counter as Daisy kept unloading the bags. There was a large bag of rice flour, a jar of sesame seeds, and a sack of brown sugar amongst everything else. “What are you planning to do with all this?” ** **  
** **

Lifting a jar of red bean paste out, Daisy turned to Melinda with an excited smile. “I thought we could make máqiú!” ** **  
** **

Melinda’s mouth watered in a pavlovian response. She hadn’t had máqiú, deep-fried sesame seed balls with red bean filling, since the new year which was several months ago.  ** **  
** **

“Do you have a recipe?” she asked. “My mother has never trusted me enough to give me hers.” ** **  
** **

“Uh.” Daisy suddenly avoided all eye contact, instead looking down at the bag of flour as she said, “I… have it.” ** **  
** **

Melinda blinked, surprised. “What? When did she give it to you?” ** **  
** **

“I video called her like two weeks ago and asked,” Daisy said, hesitantly glancing to Melinda. “Is that okay?” ** **  
** **

“Of course,” Melinda said, frowning a bit. “Why wouldn’t it be?” ** **  
** **

“Because she’s your mom and I’m-” Daisy began, trying to force the words out as her cheeks colored. “I’m not-” ** **  
** **

“Hey.” Melinda stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. “You’re as much as hers as I am,” she said. Maybe it was the emptiness of the base or Daisy’s blatant need for reassurance that caused Melinda to be able to say, “And you’re mine too.” ** **  
** **

It was easier to admit now. While Melinda had a habit of running away from her feelings or ignoring them, she wasn’t going to run from this.  ** **  
** **

Daisy offered her a watery smile, face wobbling slightly. She didn’t say anything, but Melinda knew she understood. Daisy sniffled, wiping at her eyes a few times. “Uh. These apparently take a while, so we better get started.” Daisy slid an envelope out from her back pocket, handing it to Melinda. “Here.”  ** **  
** **

Melinda took the envelope, scrawled with her mother’s address and the lotus flower stamps she favored. “She mailed it to you?” ** **  
** **

“Yeah. She didn’t want to email it.” Daisy sighed just as Melinda flipped open the letter and was greeted with Chinese characters. “It’s in Mandarin.” ** **  
** **

Leave it to her mother to write an entire recipe in Chinese. “Well, you do need to practice.” Melinda pulled open one of the kitchen drawers, taking out a roll of tape. Carefully, she ripped a piece off and taped the recipe to one of the cabinets above them. Melinda’s eyes burned unexpectedly at the sight of her mother’s handwriting. Up until now, she didn’t realize how much she missed Lian. Melinda cleared her throat and read the first line of ingredients. “Liù bēi yóu.” ** **  
** **

“Six cups of oil.” Daisy grabbed the large bottle of cooking oil and a measuring cup, carefully measuring and pouring the oil into the wok she’d brought out and set on one of the burners. “Bàn bēi bái zhīma, sān fēn zhī sān bēi hóngtáng, yībēi kāishuǐ, sān bēi mǐfěn, yībēi hóngdòu shā.”  _ Half cup of white sesame seeds, three quarter cup of brown sugar, one cup of boiling water, three cups rice flour, one cup red bean paste. _ ** **  
** **

“Very good.” ** **  
** **

“I memorized it when I went to the grocery store,” Daisy explained. “She told me the ingredients over the call.” ** **  
** **

“Jiāng yóu yù rè zhì yóu zhá zhì èrbǎi wǔshí dù,” Melinda read off the first direction. “Quèbǎo chǎo guō zhōng zhìshǎo yǒusān yīngcùn de yóu.” ** **  
** **

“Preheat the oil for deep-frying to two hundred fifty degrees. Make sure that there are at least three inches of oil in the wok.” Daisy did so, squinting at the oil before she turned the burner on. “Does that look like three inches?” ** **  
** **

Melinda peeked at it. “Yeah. Jiāng zhīma zhǒngzǐ sā zài yīkuài là huò yángpí zhǐ shàng.” ** **  
** **

“Spread the sesame seeds over a piece of wax or parchment paper,” Daisy muttered, turning away from the stove to grab the jar of sesame seeds. Melinda ripped off a sheet of wax paper and placed it on the counter. She turned and accidentally bumped into Daisy who just opened the jar. Sesame seeds spilled everywhere from the impact, falling onto the counter, the floor, and over both women.  ** **  
** **

“No,” Daisy groaned, pitifully drawing out the  _ o _ .  ** **  
** **

“We should still have enough.” Melinda pushed the sesame seeds on the counter to the side, shaking more out onto the paper. They could clean up later. The oil was already heating and to be frank, Melinda wanted some máqiú as much as Daisy did. “Xià yībù shì shénme?”  _ What’s next? _ ** **  
** **

“Yī xiǎo wǎn shuǐ?” Daisy couldn’t read Chinese as well as she could speak it yet, so there were a few seconds between each word. She turned to Melinda for approval who nodded. “Nǐ néng dédào shuǐ ma?”  _ Can you get the water? _ ** **  
** **

Melinda took the small bowl Daisy handed her, filling it up at the sink. She exchanged it for the measuring cup, filling that too with water. “I’ll melt the sugar and water. Get started on the dough.” ** **  
** **

“Don’t burn it.” ** **  
** **

As Melinda walked by, she delivered a sharp, quick swat to Daisy’s behind. Daisy yelped, jolting onto the balls of her feet before sticking her tongue out at Melinda. She took out a large bowl before opening the bag of rice flour. Melinda, busy stirring sugar and water into a saucepan, didn’t get to see Daisy dump the flour into the bowl. She did hear Daisy’s gasp. “Oh!”  ** **  
** **

Melinda turned and was greeted with a fine spray of flour across her lower chest and abdomen.  ** **  
** **

“Oh my god!” Daisy exclaimed, mortified. “May, I’m so sorry!” ** **  
** **

For a moment, Melinda remained frozen. The flour wasn’t a problem; she’d been covered in far worse. But, she enjoyed drawing it out and seeing the look of horror on Daisy’s face. Melinda decided to have fun. Faster than Daisy could react, Melinda’s hand darted into the bowl of flour. She tossed a handful onto Daisy, watching as her dark shirt blossomed with white. Some of it fell to her pants, dusting the tops of her shoes, and landed on the floor.  ** **  
** **

Daisy gasped. “ _ May! _ ” ** **  
** **

“Daisy,” Melinda mocked. “You’re making a mess.”  ** **  
** **

“That-” she spluttered, still gaping. “That was  _ you! _ ”  ** **  
** **

Melinda tried to move out of the way, but the space was too small. Daisy threw a handful of flour onto her. It coated Melinda’s thighs and jeans, covering her boots. With that, it was war. Melinda reached into the bag of flour, not even caring how it tipped onto the counter and tossed more onto Daisy. She shrieked, laughing, and tried to rub some on Melinda’s face who blocked her, tickling Daisy’s ribs who squealed. When Daisy tried to wriggle away, Melinda hooked an arm around her waist and held her closer, tickling Daisy who began to beg.  ** **  
** **

“Stop!” she gasped between giggles. “S-stop! May!” ** **  
** **

“Say you made the mess,” Melinda said over her laughter. Her face hurt from how much she was smiling and laughing along with Daisy. Playing around like this was rare, but Melinda allowed herself to indulge this one time. Besides, she’d do anything to hear Daisy laugh. “Say it, Daisy.” ** **  
** **

Daisy gasped, writhing against Melinda. “No-ho!” She could break loose from Melinda’s hold if she really wanted to. It would be easy, but she didn’t. Melinda doubled her efforts, moving to Daisy’s neck where she was most ticklish. Daisy shrieked. “May! F-fine! It was me!” ** **  
** **

Melinda let her go. Daisy stumbled against the counter, trying to catch her breath. Flour smeared across her cheeks as she wiped at her face. But she was still laughing and so was Melinda. Then Daisy’s nose wrinkled right before Melinda smelt the acrid aroma herself. “Something’s burning.” ** **  
** **

Melinda whirled around and yanked the pan off the burner, but it was too late. The sugar and water mixture was beyond salvageable- and edible. She burned it, just like everything else she tried to make. Even though Melinda knew it burned because of the distraction, she still warned, “Don’t say anything.” ** **  
** **

Daisy pressed her lips together until they turned white in an effort to keep her laughter in.  ** **  
** **

After brushing some of the flour off themselves, Melinda and Daisy finished their respective parts of the recipe- minus another flour fight.  ** **  
** **

“Zài wǎn de zhōngjiān zuò yīgè jǐng,” Daisy said as she did so.  _ Make a well in the middle of the bowl. _ “Jiārù róngjiě de táng hé shuǐ hùnhéwù.”  _ Add the dissolved sugar and water mixture.  _ ** **  
** **

Melinda carefully poured the sugar and water into the well, setting the pot down as Daisy began to stir. In a matter of minutes, the dough formed into a caramel color that Melinda instantly recognized. Still, she asked, “Does it need more water?” ** **  
** **

“I don’t think so.” Daisy pressed a finger into the dough. When it came out clean, she shook her head. “No, it’s fine.” She then turned to Melinda with a cheeky smile, scooting over so she could stand before the bowl. “Ready to make some balls?” ** **  
** **

Melinda rolled her eyes and pinched off some dough. It was easy to fall into the familiar motions of rolling dough between her palms and cupping it even though she hadn’t done so in years. Roll, roll, roll, indent, cup, fill, pinch, roll. Before Daisy got her hands dirty with the dough, she opened the jar of red bean paste and was digging a spoon into it. Some of it went into the dough balls while most ended up in her mouth.  ** **  
** **

“Stop eating that." ** **  
** **

Daisy sighed. “But it’s so good.” ** **  
** **

It was. Melinda could remember doing the same when she was younger- sneaking fingerfuls of the paste when she thought Lian wasn’t looking. “It goes in the dough, Daisy. You can eat it later.” ** **  
** **

Regretfully, Daisy set the spoon down and made another ball. But she glared down at it in frustration. “Why do mine look like footballs?” ** **  
** **

“You need to cup your palms,” Melinda told her. She pinched the dough ball she had been working shut before grabbing more dough to show Daisy. “Like this.” ** **  
** **

Daisy copied Melinda, cupping her hands and slowing her motions to match Melinda’s. When she opened her hands, there was a circle instead of a football, albeit it was slightly lopsided. Nevertheless, it didn’t dull Daisy’s elation. “I did it!” she exclaimed, shoving her hand under May’s nose. “Look!” ** **  
** **

“I see,” Melinda said, gently pushing her hand away. “Now make more.”  ** **  
** **

With each ball Daisy dunked in the bowl, water splashed up onto the counter, creating a puddle that dripped off and onto the floor. Daisy looked at it sheepishly then back to Melinda.  ** **  
** **

“Oops.” ** **  
** **

Melinda sighed. “Daisy.” ** **  
** **

“I can’t help it! We should have put paper towels down or something. I didn’t know it would be this messy.”  ** **  
** **

“You just like making a mess.” ** **  
** **

Daisy only laughed. “Maybe.” ** **  
** **

Soon they had a plateful of somewhat decent looking sesame balls, pale and ready to be fried.  ** **  
** **

Out of the corner of her eye, Melinda caught a movement. She turned, and Daisy hastily slipped her fingers from her mouth, hiding it behind her back. But, the dark red remnants around her mouth gave her away.  ** **  
** **

“If you keep eating it we won’t have any left.” ** **  
** **

“It’s a big jar,” Daisy defended. It was. Melinda was sure Daisy bought the biggest one the store had. “Are they ready?” ** **  
** **

“Mhm.” ** **  
** **

Daisy eagerly stepped over to the stove, peering down at the still wok of oil. “Is it hot enough?” ** **  
** **

Melinda glanced to the thermometer sticking out of the oil and nodded. “Grab the spider.” ** **  
** **

“Why’d they have to call it that?” Daisy complained as she dug the tool out from one of the drawers. She handed it to Melinda who began to load it up with sesame balls. “Can’t we just use chopsticks?” ** **  
** **

“You want to use chopsticks with boiling hot oil?” ** **  
** **

“I see your point.” Daisy watched Melinda lift the sesame balls before asking, “Can I do it?” ** **  
** **

Carefully, Melinda handed Daisy the spider, watching as she moved closer to the wok. Daisy held the handle tight, announcing  _ here we go _ as she dunked the sesame balls in. Melinda grabbed the back of Daisy’s shirt and tugged her back just in time as the oil popped and splattered up. It barely missed Daisy and instead landed on the floor with a sizzle.  ** **  
** **

“Thanks.” ** **  
** **

Melinda’s arms prickled with a phantom pain of hot oil splashing up onto her skin. She’d made the same mistake when she first helped her mother fry. “Don’t get too close to it." ** **  
** **

“I won’t,” Daisy promised.  ** **  
** **

True to her word, Daisy kept her distance from the popping oil but still lingered around the stove, occasionally poking at the frying máqiú. “Why aren’t they getting bigger?” ** **  
** **

Melinda glanced to the recipe. “Nǐ àn xiàle ma?”  _ Did you press them down? _ ** **  
** **

“No!” Daisy grabbed a wooden spatula, gingerly inserting it into the oil. Melinda watched her, eyes trained on the oil as it popped but kept drifting to how the tip of Daisy’s tongue poked out as she concentrated. Melinda couldn’t resist and took her phone out, subtly taking a picture.  ** **  
** **

“I saw that.” ** **  
** **

Melinda tucked her phone away. “You saw nothing.” ** **  
** **

“Uh-huh.” Daisy looked back down at the oil. Her face shifted into a confused frown. “Wait, why are they falling apart?” ** **  
** **

That wasn’t supposed to happen. Melinda abandoned making more sesame balls and joined Daisy by the wok. Sure enough, the máqiú- if they could even call it that- was in pieces. The dough floated around in bits, still frying, while the red bean paste separated and turned the oil a deep red.  ** **  
** **

“Let’s try the others.” ** **  
** **

The next three sesame balls yielded the same result and then the three after that and then the two more after that. Daisy set the spider down with a sigh after the fished the largest pieces out. “It’s not going to work.” ** **  
** **

“Maybe we need to change the oil.” ** **  
** **

“We used all the oil.” ** **  
** **

“We should have more.” ** **  
** **

Daisy slumped against the counter. “We don’t. That’s why I bought it.” ** **  
** **

“The only oil we have is Simmons’ coconut oil,” Melinda said as she rifled through the pantry, picking up the heavy jar. “Can you even deep fry with that?” ** **  
** **

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to waste it,” Daisy sighed and forlornly poked at the macerated máqiú on the paper towel before her.  ** **  
** **

“We could always try and eat what’s left.” Even as the words left her mouth, Melinda knew she wouldn’t be touching the mess of fried dough and runny bean paste except to throw it away. It was edible, sure, but there were better things to eat.  ** **  
** **

“Oh my god.” Daisy buried her face in her hands, moaning. “This was such a fail.” ** **  
** **

It was. Whenever Melinda made máqiú with her mother, it never turned out like this. Then again, she and Daisy weren’t the best in the kitchen.  ** **  
** **

“We can always make them another time,” Melinda said.  ** **  
** **

“You’re right,” Daisy agreed. “At least nothing caught on fire this time, right?” ** **  
** **

“Don’t jinx it." ** **  
** **

Daisy surveyed the kitchen, taking in the damage. “This is worse than when you helped Hunter with the lasagna.”  ** **  
** **

“I fail to see how this is worse than glass exploding everywhere.” ** **  
** **

There were circles and splatters of oil on the floor, the mat below the stove, even lines dripping down the front of the oven. The pile of sesame seeds that spilled was now trekked around the space between the stove and counter. Some seeds were even stuck to the cabinets from where Daisy flicked them off her fingers. Flour decorated nearly every surface, including them. Daisy had a fair share of the flour on her though. There were streaks of it in her hair, handprints, and smudges of it on her clothes and various lines on her cheeks and nose. Melinda was slightly cleaner, but her clothes were in a similar state.  ** **  
** **

Daisy sighed, trying to hide her disappointment even though Melinda could see right through her. “I was really excited to eat some balls.” ** **  
** **

Seeing Daisy upset felt like a rock settled in Melinda’s stomach. She couldn’t stand it and needed to fix it. Melinda turned, walking out. “Wait here.”  ** **  
** **

Daisy watched Melinda leave the kitchen, slightly confused. A few minutes later, when Melinda returned, it was with a red and gold tin in her hands. She tilted her chin to the couch in the common room. Daisy followed, sitting beside her. Her eyes went wide as Melinda opened the tin. ** **  
** **

“Are those what I think they are?” ** **  
** **

“Maybe.” ** **  
** **

Melinda reached in first, taking out an almond cookie from the wax paper. She held it out to Daisy, who took it almost reverently. Immediately, Daisy bit into it, eyes fluttering as she moaned around the mouthful she had. “You’ve been keeping these to yourself the whole time?” ** **  
** **

“You would have eaten them all already if I told you,” Melinda said, taking a cookie before sitting back on the couch. She lifted one arm up so Daisy could press against her. Daisy tucked herself to Melinda’s side with a content sigh. She dropped crumbs onto Melinda’s lap, but Melinda didn’t mind.  ** **  
** **

“You’re right. But still. I thought you said no eating in the bunks.” ** **  
** **

Melinda bit into a cookie. “Exceptions can be made.” ** **  
** **

“Uh-huh.” ** **  
** **

“You don’t want the hóngdòushā?” ** **  
** **

Daisy thought about it for a moment before shaking her head. “Nah. I’ll save it for later.” ** **  
** **

“I better not find it in your bunk.” ** **  
** **

She smiled slyly. “You didn’t find all the groceries.” ** **  
** **

“Am I going to have to do a weekly inspection?” Melinda asked, more teasing than serious.  ** **  
** **

“No,” Daisy hastily said. “Fine. I’ll keep it in the kitchen.” She began to eat another cookie but shifted to look at Melinda. “Thanks for sharing your secret cookie stash with me.” ** **  
** **

Melinda softened. “Just don’t tell the others. Phil doesn’t even know where I hide it.” ** **  
** **

“I won’t,” Daisy promised. She cuddled to Melinda again when Melinda tugged her back. Daisy ate the rest of her cookie before saying, “We should do this more often.” ** **  
** **

“Destroy the kitchen?” ** **  
** **

“No,” she said. “Make food together. Even if it sucks.” ** **  
** **

Melinda hummed, tucking Daisy’s hair behind her ear. It sounded nice, of course, it did. But, Melinda wasn’t going to make any more promises she couldn’t keep. Sensing her hesitation, Daisy snuggled a little closer. “Or we could just spend more time together.” ** **  
** **

Melinda smiled, tucking flour-streaked hair behind Daisy’s ear. “I’d like that.” ** **  
** **

Daisy returned her smile, settling her cheek on Melinda’s chest. A content purr vibrated in her chest as Melinda kissed her temple. “Me too.”  ** **  
** **

Footsteps neared the doorway. Daisy lifted her head up to see who it was, although with the current empty state of the base, it could only be one other person. “Coulson!” ** **  
** **

At Daisy’s voice, Phil lit up, tired eyes crinkling at the edges with his smile. “Hey.” His shoulders lost some tension as he saw them together on the couch. “Taking a break?” ** **  
** **

Melinda shrugged. “You could say that.” ** **  
** **

“Have you even done any work, though?” he asked playfully, turning to walk to the kitchen. Phil stopped abruptly. A few seconds ticked by before: “What the hell happened in here?” ** **  
** **

Daisy stifled her giggle. “We tried to make máqiú.” ** **  
** **

“With your eyes closed? Are those sesame seeds all over the floor?” They heard the familiar  _ clink  _ of Phil setting his mug under the coffee maker. “It looks like a bomb went off in here. Who’s going to clean this?” ** **  
** **

“We’ll clean it later,” Melinda said, unable to hold back her smile at Daisy’s laughter.  ** **  
** **

Phil returned to the common area, rolling his eyes. “More like I’ll be the one cleaning it.” He sat on Daisy’s other side, leaning to place his coffee on the table. As he did, his attention caught on the bright red tin. “Are those almond cookies?” ** **  
** **

“Mhm.” ** **  
** **

“Where did you get these?” Phil asked as he took two. Cookies in hand, he sunk into the couch with one arm slung over the back of it. “I know better than to allow you into the kitchen.” ** **  
** **

“Don’t worry about it,” Melinda said.  ** **  
** **

Daisy pressed against Phil’s side, resting her head on his chest for a moment before peering up at him. “Are you done working?” ** **  
** **

Phil glanced to Melinda, meeting her eyes over Daisy’s head. They had more work to do, but it could wait. Phil nodded, giving Daisy a smile. “For today.” ** **  
** **

“Good.” Daisy laid her head on his shoulder. “I missed you.” ** **  
** **

“I missed you too.” Phil dropped a kiss to the top of Daisy’s head, brows creasing when his lips came away dusted with flour. He brushed at her hair with his fingers, causing a white puff to rise from Daisy’s hairline. She leaned into his touch and wrinkled her nose as Phil licked his thumb before rubbing at her temple. “You are covered in flour,” he said with fond exasperation. “Both of you.” ** **  
** **

“That’s Daisy’s fault.” ** **  
** **

“Hey! You threw some at me!” ** **  
** **

“You got it on me first.” ** **  
** **

“And now you’re getting it all over me,” Phil said though he didn’t seem too bothered. His white dress shirt wouldn’t show any flour on it, but his dark slacks were another story. “You have some-” Phil gestured to the right side of his mouth and sighed when Melinda missed it. “Still-” He leaned over Daisy, lifting a crumb-covered hand to cup Melinda’s jaw. Phil pressed his lips to the corner of Melinda’s mouth before her lips, murmuring, “There.” ** **  
** **

“Ugh,” Daisy grumbled. “Really? Right in front of my cookies?” ** **  
** **

“I think you mean  _ my  _ cookies,” Melinda said as she pulled away from the chaste kiss. She settled back against Daisy, poking her side. “No complaining if you want another one.” ** **  
** **

She huffed. “Fine.” ** **  
** **

With the arm he had on the back of the couch, Phil reached for Melinda’s hand, squeezing it. She squeezed back, turning into Daisy, slipping an arm over her waist as she’d done during their flour fight. Only this time, Melinda didn’t mercilessly tickle Daisy. Instead, she watched her eat another cookie, dropping crumbs onto Phil’s shirt who didn’t care. He rested his cheek on the top of Daisy’s head, meeting Melinda’s eyes again.  ** **  
** **

“We really need to clean the kitchen.” ** **  
** **

They did, but it could wait. Right now Melinda wanted to cuddle with her family. She gripped Phil’s hand, kissed Daisy’s cheek. “Later.”  ** **  
** **

Then Phil frowned and glanced to the kitchen. “Did you have a burner on?”

Something caught on fire after all. They put it out quickly but not fast enough to miss the smoke detectors that wouldn’t stop screeching no matter what Phil tried to do. The noise was annoying, but Daisy’s laughter and Phil yelling instructions over it made everything more bearable. They probably wouldn’t be cooking together again, but Melinda was looking forward to spending more time with her two favorite people. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! since I was unable to find my family's recipe for sesame seed balls, I wrote most of what I remember doing and used this lovely recipe here if you are interested https://www.thespruceeats.com/sesame-seed-balls-694446


End file.
